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The Gate Pass Irregulars: A War of the Burning Sky Campaign
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<blockquote data-quote="Cafu" data-source="post: 5935631" data-attributes="member: 6692807"><p>After what we had achieved in the Forest, there were a couple of days in which we basked in the euphoria of our accomplishments. I think I became a little tiresome as I asked so many questions about what everyone felt about their achievements, how they would impact the Forest, what they thought Indomitability was, their perception of the Trillith and their reaction to the various miraculous sights we had seen and deeds we had done; I was surprised at how differently everyone had perceived and interpreted various aspects of our adventures, which in turn initiated discussion within the group about everyone’s thoughts and ideas. Tiresome or not, at least this helped to clarify events and avoid possible misunderstandings; never a bad thing.</p><p></p><p>Felix and Longhelim answered my questions with good nature and grace, Slippery John would tell me outrageously obvious lies and he would invariably do it with a totally straight face until he broke up in laughter and would then ask me questions such as: </p><p></p><p>“Seriously, you are not going to write that down, are you?”</p><p></p><p>Really, it was quite aggravating. </p><p></p><p>Victor and Drudge were obviously a little uncomfortable talking about themselves and said as little as possible. Torrent spoke as if she had expected nothing less of us while Crystin would often follow me about as if she wanted to remember everything, although I never saw her take any notes. I would often consult her about certain things some people said and found that she had a very good memory. This was extremely helpful.</p><p></p><p>Tiljann just talked about the world outside of the Forest and how eager she was to see it.</p><p></p><p>I was using all of these answers and comments to try to put together as accurate an account of what had happened as I was able. It was as I was writing it down that I realised one important fact: This journal could be quite dangerous; not only to us but also to Gate Pass and the people who had helped us. For example, if it fell into the wrong hands such as the Ragesians, portions of the narrative could be problematic for council man Erdan Menash; they stated quite clearly that he had helped spell casters evade the Inquisition. I did not mean to flatter myself that the scribbling of an obscure dwarf were certain to fall into the hands of the Ragesians or even be of much interest to anyone except possibly my family, but at the same time, it was not a risk I was willing to take; therefore, I decided that this journal would be best kept to myself for the time being. </p><p></p><p>As I mentioned previously, it took a couple of days to traverse through the forest. The path was now quite clear and the whole area was deserted. Here and there we saw corpses of charred creatures, which had obviously been burning but with the expulsion of Indomitability, they had lost whatever fell curse had gripped them and had finally been consumed by the fire. </p><p></p><p>As we emerged from the last of the burnt remnants of the Forest, we saw that we had arrived at the edge of endless, grassy plains; it was the first time anyone of us had seen such vast, flat lands where one could gaze seemingly for miles and we stared in wonder for some time, lost in the distance and our thoughts. All of us were entranced by this totally new landscape but no one more so than Tiljann; even more than us, she had been confined to a small enclave for all of her life. In the days ahead, she would periodically continue to stare into the distance and we would often have to keep her from darting off our trail to examine some strange flower, plant or stone. </p><p></p><p>It had also begun to rain. However, this did not dampen our spirits. I was still amazed at our achievements and glad to be alive; and it was infinitely better than walking through fire. </p><p></p><p>At this point, I asked Torrent a few things about the next stage of our journey, which she was happy to answer:</p><p></p><p>First of all, she told us about Dassen, the kingdom that we were about to enter. It was an ordered, peaceful land with a King named Steppengaard, who ruled together with eight other potentates, many of whom were related to him somehow. These Lords and Ladies had enormous holdings throughout the whole of Dassen, which made up the country. I asked her if the Ragesians had ever invaded it or attempted to conquer it but she was not able to answer me. Torrent had many strengths but history was not one of them.</p><p></p><p>Seaquen, our destination, was at the far southern end of the country on the tip of a peninsula, jutting out into the sea. It had been a sleepy fishing town until Headmaster Simeon of the Lyceum, the Academy of Magic, had issued his famous rallying call to all who would resist the tyranny of Ragesia; that had put it immediately on the map so to speak. The only other thing I had heard about it myself was that the Lyceum was the only place that was aware of and practiced Gabal’s techniques of spell dueling. </p><p></p><p>Torrent said that there was a swamp outside the city that we would have to cross. She didn’t know much about it as when she had left the Seaquen in the past, she had done so by ship, bypassing this hazard. She knew that it was called Sour Lake Swamp. She also told us that the Lyceum was ruled by a Council. Finally, she mentioned that she had a mentor who lived in Seaquen so at least we had a contact in the city. </p><p></p><p>She added that it would take the best part of month to reach Seaquen, providing there were no mishaps during the journey. </p><p></p><p>With the exception of the rain, which became generally irritating, the initial part of the journey was uneventful. Everyone took advantage of this quiet period to practice their skills or learn more magic. Most of the evenings we would set up a large communal lean to; it was not completely water proof but it did keep the majority of the rain at bay. </p><p></p><p>I would update this journal and I also spent a great deal of time thinking about new magical directions. Our activities in the Fire Forest had opened my mind to a whole new realm of magic and different types of spells. In the desperation of our battles against Indomitability and its cursed creatures, I had not been able to follow my ideas but now with more time at my disposal, I was able to think things through as I walked during the day. Quite often in the evenings, I would ask Crystin or Tiljann to help me with various ideas and concepts. Felix amazed me when he said that he had been given the power of flight by his God. It was a true miracle but as soon as I saw it, I realised I could do it as well; what had seemed impossible to me previously, was now something that I could do with the correct magical formula; and that was just one spell. Suddenly, I felt that there was a huge amount of potential and scope in so many aspects of magic; and I would have to begin exploring these new aspects as the counter spelling ability of the Inquisitors was frightening. </p><p></p><p>Crystin was also able to grasp these formulae to an extent but her magic seemed to be of a more immediate and instinctive type although it was also arcane. Tiljann’s magic seemed to be more based on music and song as opposed to magical formulae but the effects she achieved were often similar, again if more limited in scope. Her songs definitely had power though.</p><p></p><p>However, neither of them had the slightest knowledge of Gabal’s specialization, that odd ability to disguise both the nature and the timing of a spell’s release, to confound an enemy caster. That was something I practiced assiduously, especially after my meeting with the Inquisitor. </p><p></p><p>A surprising guest in our little group discussing magical theory was Slippery John. In the beginning, I wondered just what John had in mind but he evinced genuine interest in the subject and more importantly, he had an instinctive grasp of the subject which was extraordinary. He even borrowed my spell book and began to learn spells from it. It was astounding. </p><p></p><p>The two warriors also spent the time constructively. Victor began to get used to his new sword. It was made of wood so it was a very different weight from his previous metal one and he had to become accustomed to this variation. I hoped that this period would not be as painful as the torrid time he had experienced when he changed weapon to a falchion gifted to him by Councillor Menash. </p><p></p><p>Longhelim and he sparred each morning and evening, honing each other’s skills. Often they would stop in the middle of a bout, as they would show each other various stances, cuts and parries. At the end of each of these bouts, they would perform a series of exercises. Victor told me that they were known as “forms” and that they were used mainly to develop something called “muscle memory”. The idea was for the body to be able to react to a series of physical circumstances without conscious thought. I never realised that being a warrior was so…..complicated. </p><p></p><p>It was instructive watching their activities as I was also thinking about various magical spells to help them. Certainly, I could possibly do something to make their weapons more effective and of course give them various defences, but there were also more interesting aspects to combat magic that I was beginning to formulate in my head. </p><p></p><p>I already had one spell which I felt, they would consider hugely useful. I would save it as a pleasant surprise for them.</p><p></p><p>Drudge often joined the warriors in their swordplay but each evening, he would construct a target and practice with his bow. He would usually ask someone to watch where the arrows fell if they missed but that was a rare occurrence. His accuracy was prodigious; he would shoot his bow on the move, or his hands blurred and it looked as if several arrows left his bow almost simultaneously, thunking into the target, ominously close to each other.</p><p></p><p>Torrent and Felix spent quite a bit of time together, meditating and discussing the nature of faith and their different beliefs. In general they tended to agree but they differed on the details. Felix was now manifesting several very interesting powers granted to him by his God, Farlanghn. One of his most important ones was a newly acquired ability to conjure a filling meal for us each morning that seemed to last all day. He produced a great deal of this food but unfortunately, it would not keep more than a couple of days but it allowed us to travel quickly and efficiently rather than having to forage in the countryside which would have slowed us considerably. </p><p></p><p>So, the time passed remarkably quickly. Initially, we followed the mountain range which formed the border with the Shining Lands of Shahalesti and this ultimately became a coastal road. When we reached the beginning of that route, it was the first time I had seen the sea and at first I found it quite intimidating. Such a vast body of water, terrifying and mysterious……Torrent however, breathed the air and told several stories and myths associated with the ocean. One could tell that, being a water cleric, she was glad to be so close to such a huge body of her element. Everyone else looked at it like I did except for Tiljann. We had to tell her that no, unfortunately, we did not have the time to go to the shore and have a swim; and that the weather was very inappropriate for this pastime at the moment.</p><p></p><p>Speaking of the weather, more and more rain storms swept south. Drudge kept looking at them and muttering. He spoke briefly to Torrent and she shook her head. I asked what was bothering him: </p><p></p><p>“This rain; it’s been going on for too long. I wondered if our putting out the Fire in the Forest had anything to do with it but Torrent doesn’t think so. Still, I have never seen anything like it.”</p><p></p><p>He then moved on, still muttering. </p><p></p><p>Then, as our journey was getting to its last leg, we began to see more people on the road. They were the wrong type of people as well. Men, women, children, families of all ages, here and there someone pulling a small cart, all laden with possessions. Obviously they had left their homes. The story was always the same. It was war! And the Ragesians were coming; and when they did, they would sweep down like the wolf on the fold. Seaquen was offering sanctuary and they would get there before they were killed. </p><p></p><p>No one was quite sure where or when Leska was coming, just that she would. I was beginning to wonder just what this miraculous refuge offered by Seaquen actually was. Looking at the queues of people, whatever it was, I just hoped it was big. </p><p></p><p>We normally travelled a little faster than these groups as they would have children and oldsters among them but they varied hugely in race and size. Generally, it looked as if whole communities had decided to leave their homes and head south. </p><p></p><p>As we travelled in that direction, we did come across one interesting sight. One night, we approached a wheat field that had obviously been partly burned. It had also been trampled and there were still the remains of a battle. Drudge went into the field and had a good look around. He told us about the remains of the battle; some of the corpses were in Ragesian uniform and strangely, their boots contained soil; this was something for which Dassenian warriors were most famous for; a superstition that no matter where they were, they wanted to be in contact with the soil of their Fatherland. The Ragesians seemed to also have the same belief, if the corpses were anything to go by. There were also signs of a group of riders moving away from the field; probably the winners of the skirmish.</p><p></p><p>We moved on and finally, one day at dusk, reached the first signs of some sort of settlement. A sign stated: </p><p></p><p>“Vidor: Population 65: Last stop before the Swamp. Gear up before the Dangers of the Swamp.”</p><p></p><p>As we proceeded, we saw a mish mash of tents, wooden huts, sometimes a mixture of the two, straddling both sides of a muddy track leading south. There were a few building further to the sides; and it was full of people, most of them refugees begging for money, food, wood, anything. There was a great deal of noise, with babies crying, shouting, insults and generally a bad atmosphere. There was a very unpleasant air of desperation throughout this Vidor.</p><p></p><p>As we entered, it quickly became clear that the owners of these aforementioned establishments had set themselves up here to fleece the refugees of as much money or possessions as possible. The only way to cross the swamp was by boat and the boats were…..expensive; especially as there was a separate price for the oars and the poles and the carriage to the swamp.</p><p></p><p>When we learned this and inquired about the price of a boat, “expensive” was not quite the word Longhelim used but we all realised that it was a seller’s market. No matter what we thought, we had to bite our tongues; it was a good lesson in human nature. </p><p></p><p>We set up a camp nearby and then went once more into the tents and huts. Rumours and tales were rife. A recent arrival had caused quite a stir: a striking, beautiful red-haired woman had come into the camp, peremptorily hired two bodyguards and had walked off towards the swamp. Everyone thought she was insane. Why, everyone knew how dangerous the swamp was, full of wild beasts and other, darker things. Apparently the only thing that would guarantee your survival would be these real, magical ivory necklaces, remarkably cheap for what they are; honestly they would save your life. Oh, and we would also need a map to know where we are going. They were very cheap for what they were, too. We took a look at some of these maps; interesting how they all seemed to be different. </p><p></p><p>The red-haired woman did sound honestly interesting though. Rantle’s sister, Katrina was red-haired. If that was who it was, we had some mail for her.</p><p></p><p>Finally, apparently there was a remarkable collection of spell casters of all types making their way to Seaquen which was not at all surprising. I did not see any myself but I suspect that had I evinced an interest vocally then several of them would make themselves known to me immediately and that I would be charged just for talking to one of these individuals; very reasonable rates of course.</p><p></p><p>Having wondered around, listening to all the stories, we determined that before we decided to spend any of our money, we would have to go to the edge of this swamp ourselves just to see what exactly we did need to cross it. </p><p></p><p>Having decided that, we retired for the night with the exception of Slippery John, who had not returned with us. When he finally returned during the night, he was quite surly and took his boots off in a savage manner. </p><p></p><p>“Hullo John. What happened to you?”</p><p></p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it”.</p><p></p><p>And with that, he went to sleep. </p><p></p><p>The next day, we set out and travelled on the road to the edge of the swamp. When we finally reached the edge of Sour Lake Swamp, even my inexperienced eye could see that we would need a boat to cross it. A myriad of waterways, most of which seemed quite shallow, wound their way through small islets, some of which even had the odd tree or two. However, the distances between these tiny banks of land were irregular and it was impossible to say which ones were firm and which were made of mud. There was no help for it; we would have to return and get price gouged for boats. </p><p></p><p>We camped out and the next morning trudged back into Vidor in the pouring rain. As soon as we returned, we went to the boat maker. We made little small talk; we didn’t like him and he could feel that; we were in no mood to bargain and we thought it unlikely that he would have been receptive anyway. It was obvious that he could sell more boats than he could make. </p><p></p><p>We camped out again and the next morning, we collected our three boats and set out again; as previously, we didn’t engage in any conversation with any of the “business owners” in Vidor. It was fairly obvious what kind of people they were and that they thrived on and were making a lot of money from the misfortune of others, even potentially condemning them to death at the end of a Ragesian spear. If they were comfortable with that, well, that was between them and their consciences but we had no time for them. </p><p></p><p>We reached the edge of the swamp at dusk and camped for the night. Then the next day, we set out. Each boat could carry three people so we decided that the warriors and the priest would go in one; Faden, Crystin and Torrent would go in another while Drudge, John and Tiljann would go in the last. We tied the boats together and carefully, with a mixture of poling and rowing, began to traverse the swamp. </p><p></p><p>It was not a very hospitable place. It was the first swamp I had ever seen and I did not really care for the experience. It often smelled funny and here and there, we could see huge lizards with large mouths and very big teeth looking at us; Drudge said they were crocodiles and that they were extremely dangerous. They looked it. </p><p></p><p>Once in the distance, we also saw a flock of black birds or I think that they were birds. They could also have been something else but if I was correct, I didn’t even want to think about it. We also saw several holed boats on our travels; I hoped that it was just inferior boat building as opposed to something attacking them. Thankfully for us, nothing attacked us and as we reached the evening, Drudge was able to find a sizeable island where we were able to set up camp. </p><p></p><p>We landed, dragged the boats up the land and went through our usual routine before we went to bed. Then, Tiljann woke me up during the night and as I raised my head, I saw a cloud of fog with a light inside floating towards us from across the water. I had no idea what it was but it didn’t look friendly.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Cafu, post: 5935631, member: 6692807"] After what we had achieved in the Forest, there were a couple of days in which we basked in the euphoria of our accomplishments. I think I became a little tiresome as I asked so many questions about what everyone felt about their achievements, how they would impact the Forest, what they thought Indomitability was, their perception of the Trillith and their reaction to the various miraculous sights we had seen and deeds we had done; I was surprised at how differently everyone had perceived and interpreted various aspects of our adventures, which in turn initiated discussion within the group about everyone’s thoughts and ideas. Tiresome or not, at least this helped to clarify events and avoid possible misunderstandings; never a bad thing. Felix and Longhelim answered my questions with good nature and grace, Slippery John would tell me outrageously obvious lies and he would invariably do it with a totally straight face until he broke up in laughter and would then ask me questions such as: “Seriously, you are not going to write that down, are you?” Really, it was quite aggravating. Victor and Drudge were obviously a little uncomfortable talking about themselves and said as little as possible. Torrent spoke as if she had expected nothing less of us while Crystin would often follow me about as if she wanted to remember everything, although I never saw her take any notes. I would often consult her about certain things some people said and found that she had a very good memory. This was extremely helpful. Tiljann just talked about the world outside of the Forest and how eager she was to see it. I was using all of these answers and comments to try to put together as accurate an account of what had happened as I was able. It was as I was writing it down that I realised one important fact: This journal could be quite dangerous; not only to us but also to Gate Pass and the people who had helped us. For example, if it fell into the wrong hands such as the Ragesians, portions of the narrative could be problematic for council man Erdan Menash; they stated quite clearly that he had helped spell casters evade the Inquisition. I did not mean to flatter myself that the scribbling of an obscure dwarf were certain to fall into the hands of the Ragesians or even be of much interest to anyone except possibly my family, but at the same time, it was not a risk I was willing to take; therefore, I decided that this journal would be best kept to myself for the time being. As I mentioned previously, it took a couple of days to traverse through the forest. The path was now quite clear and the whole area was deserted. Here and there we saw corpses of charred creatures, which had obviously been burning but with the expulsion of Indomitability, they had lost whatever fell curse had gripped them and had finally been consumed by the fire. As we emerged from the last of the burnt remnants of the Forest, we saw that we had arrived at the edge of endless, grassy plains; it was the first time anyone of us had seen such vast, flat lands where one could gaze seemingly for miles and we stared in wonder for some time, lost in the distance and our thoughts. All of us were entranced by this totally new landscape but no one more so than Tiljann; even more than us, she had been confined to a small enclave for all of her life. In the days ahead, she would periodically continue to stare into the distance and we would often have to keep her from darting off our trail to examine some strange flower, plant or stone. It had also begun to rain. However, this did not dampen our spirits. I was still amazed at our achievements and glad to be alive; and it was infinitely better than walking through fire. At this point, I asked Torrent a few things about the next stage of our journey, which she was happy to answer: First of all, she told us about Dassen, the kingdom that we were about to enter. It was an ordered, peaceful land with a King named Steppengaard, who ruled together with eight other potentates, many of whom were related to him somehow. These Lords and Ladies had enormous holdings throughout the whole of Dassen, which made up the country. I asked her if the Ragesians had ever invaded it or attempted to conquer it but she was not able to answer me. Torrent had many strengths but history was not one of them. Seaquen, our destination, was at the far southern end of the country on the tip of a peninsula, jutting out into the sea. It had been a sleepy fishing town until Headmaster Simeon of the Lyceum, the Academy of Magic, had issued his famous rallying call to all who would resist the tyranny of Ragesia; that had put it immediately on the map so to speak. The only other thing I had heard about it myself was that the Lyceum was the only place that was aware of and practiced Gabal’s techniques of spell dueling. Torrent said that there was a swamp outside the city that we would have to cross. She didn’t know much about it as when she had left the Seaquen in the past, she had done so by ship, bypassing this hazard. She knew that it was called Sour Lake Swamp. She also told us that the Lyceum was ruled by a Council. Finally, she mentioned that she had a mentor who lived in Seaquen so at least we had a contact in the city. She added that it would take the best part of month to reach Seaquen, providing there were no mishaps during the journey. With the exception of the rain, which became generally irritating, the initial part of the journey was uneventful. Everyone took advantage of this quiet period to practice their skills or learn more magic. Most of the evenings we would set up a large communal lean to; it was not completely water proof but it did keep the majority of the rain at bay. I would update this journal and I also spent a great deal of time thinking about new magical directions. Our activities in the Fire Forest had opened my mind to a whole new realm of magic and different types of spells. In the desperation of our battles against Indomitability and its cursed creatures, I had not been able to follow my ideas but now with more time at my disposal, I was able to think things through as I walked during the day. Quite often in the evenings, I would ask Crystin or Tiljann to help me with various ideas and concepts. Felix amazed me when he said that he had been given the power of flight by his God. It was a true miracle but as soon as I saw it, I realised I could do it as well; what had seemed impossible to me previously, was now something that I could do with the correct magical formula; and that was just one spell. Suddenly, I felt that there was a huge amount of potential and scope in so many aspects of magic; and I would have to begin exploring these new aspects as the counter spelling ability of the Inquisitors was frightening. Crystin was also able to grasp these formulae to an extent but her magic seemed to be of a more immediate and instinctive type although it was also arcane. Tiljann’s magic seemed to be more based on music and song as opposed to magical formulae but the effects she achieved were often similar, again if more limited in scope. Her songs definitely had power though. However, neither of them had the slightest knowledge of Gabal’s specialization, that odd ability to disguise both the nature and the timing of a spell’s release, to confound an enemy caster. That was something I practiced assiduously, especially after my meeting with the Inquisitor. A surprising guest in our little group discussing magical theory was Slippery John. In the beginning, I wondered just what John had in mind but he evinced genuine interest in the subject and more importantly, he had an instinctive grasp of the subject which was extraordinary. He even borrowed my spell book and began to learn spells from it. It was astounding. The two warriors also spent the time constructively. Victor began to get used to his new sword. It was made of wood so it was a very different weight from his previous metal one and he had to become accustomed to this variation. I hoped that this period would not be as painful as the torrid time he had experienced when he changed weapon to a falchion gifted to him by Councillor Menash. Longhelim and he sparred each morning and evening, honing each other’s skills. Often they would stop in the middle of a bout, as they would show each other various stances, cuts and parries. At the end of each of these bouts, they would perform a series of exercises. Victor told me that they were known as “forms” and that they were used mainly to develop something called “muscle memory”. The idea was for the body to be able to react to a series of physical circumstances without conscious thought. I never realised that being a warrior was so…..complicated. It was instructive watching their activities as I was also thinking about various magical spells to help them. Certainly, I could possibly do something to make their weapons more effective and of course give them various defences, but there were also more interesting aspects to combat magic that I was beginning to formulate in my head. I already had one spell which I felt, they would consider hugely useful. I would save it as a pleasant surprise for them. Drudge often joined the warriors in their swordplay but each evening, he would construct a target and practice with his bow. He would usually ask someone to watch where the arrows fell if they missed but that was a rare occurrence. His accuracy was prodigious; he would shoot his bow on the move, or his hands blurred and it looked as if several arrows left his bow almost simultaneously, thunking into the target, ominously close to each other. Torrent and Felix spent quite a bit of time together, meditating and discussing the nature of faith and their different beliefs. In general they tended to agree but they differed on the details. Felix was now manifesting several very interesting powers granted to him by his God, Farlanghn. One of his most important ones was a newly acquired ability to conjure a filling meal for us each morning that seemed to last all day. He produced a great deal of this food but unfortunately, it would not keep more than a couple of days but it allowed us to travel quickly and efficiently rather than having to forage in the countryside which would have slowed us considerably. So, the time passed remarkably quickly. Initially, we followed the mountain range which formed the border with the Shining Lands of Shahalesti and this ultimately became a coastal road. When we reached the beginning of that route, it was the first time I had seen the sea and at first I found it quite intimidating. Such a vast body of water, terrifying and mysterious……Torrent however, breathed the air and told several stories and myths associated with the ocean. One could tell that, being a water cleric, she was glad to be so close to such a huge body of her element. Everyone else looked at it like I did except for Tiljann. We had to tell her that no, unfortunately, we did not have the time to go to the shore and have a swim; and that the weather was very inappropriate for this pastime at the moment. Speaking of the weather, more and more rain storms swept south. Drudge kept looking at them and muttering. He spoke briefly to Torrent and she shook her head. I asked what was bothering him: “This rain; it’s been going on for too long. I wondered if our putting out the Fire in the Forest had anything to do with it but Torrent doesn’t think so. Still, I have never seen anything like it.” He then moved on, still muttering. Then, as our journey was getting to its last leg, we began to see more people on the road. They were the wrong type of people as well. Men, women, children, families of all ages, here and there someone pulling a small cart, all laden with possessions. Obviously they had left their homes. The story was always the same. It was war! And the Ragesians were coming; and when they did, they would sweep down like the wolf on the fold. Seaquen was offering sanctuary and they would get there before they were killed. No one was quite sure where or when Leska was coming, just that she would. I was beginning to wonder just what this miraculous refuge offered by Seaquen actually was. Looking at the queues of people, whatever it was, I just hoped it was big. We normally travelled a little faster than these groups as they would have children and oldsters among them but they varied hugely in race and size. Generally, it looked as if whole communities had decided to leave their homes and head south. As we travelled in that direction, we did come across one interesting sight. One night, we approached a wheat field that had obviously been partly burned. It had also been trampled and there were still the remains of a battle. Drudge went into the field and had a good look around. He told us about the remains of the battle; some of the corpses were in Ragesian uniform and strangely, their boots contained soil; this was something for which Dassenian warriors were most famous for; a superstition that no matter where they were, they wanted to be in contact with the soil of their Fatherland. The Ragesians seemed to also have the same belief, if the corpses were anything to go by. There were also signs of a group of riders moving away from the field; probably the winners of the skirmish. We moved on and finally, one day at dusk, reached the first signs of some sort of settlement. A sign stated: “Vidor: Population 65: Last stop before the Swamp. Gear up before the Dangers of the Swamp.” As we proceeded, we saw a mish mash of tents, wooden huts, sometimes a mixture of the two, straddling both sides of a muddy track leading south. There were a few building further to the sides; and it was full of people, most of them refugees begging for money, food, wood, anything. There was a great deal of noise, with babies crying, shouting, insults and generally a bad atmosphere. There was a very unpleasant air of desperation throughout this Vidor. As we entered, it quickly became clear that the owners of these aforementioned establishments had set themselves up here to fleece the refugees of as much money or possessions as possible. The only way to cross the swamp was by boat and the boats were…..expensive; especially as there was a separate price for the oars and the poles and the carriage to the swamp. When we learned this and inquired about the price of a boat, “expensive” was not quite the word Longhelim used but we all realised that it was a seller’s market. No matter what we thought, we had to bite our tongues; it was a good lesson in human nature. We set up a camp nearby and then went once more into the tents and huts. Rumours and tales were rife. A recent arrival had caused quite a stir: a striking, beautiful red-haired woman had come into the camp, peremptorily hired two bodyguards and had walked off towards the swamp. Everyone thought she was insane. Why, everyone knew how dangerous the swamp was, full of wild beasts and other, darker things. Apparently the only thing that would guarantee your survival would be these real, magical ivory necklaces, remarkably cheap for what they are; honestly they would save your life. Oh, and we would also need a map to know where we are going. They were very cheap for what they were, too. We took a look at some of these maps; interesting how they all seemed to be different. The red-haired woman did sound honestly interesting though. Rantle’s sister, Katrina was red-haired. If that was who it was, we had some mail for her. Finally, apparently there was a remarkable collection of spell casters of all types making their way to Seaquen which was not at all surprising. I did not see any myself but I suspect that had I evinced an interest vocally then several of them would make themselves known to me immediately and that I would be charged just for talking to one of these individuals; very reasonable rates of course. Having wondered around, listening to all the stories, we determined that before we decided to spend any of our money, we would have to go to the edge of this swamp ourselves just to see what exactly we did need to cross it. Having decided that, we retired for the night with the exception of Slippery John, who had not returned with us. When he finally returned during the night, he was quite surly and took his boots off in a savage manner. “Hullo John. What happened to you?” “I don’t want to talk about it”. And with that, he went to sleep. The next day, we set out and travelled on the road to the edge of the swamp. When we finally reached the edge of Sour Lake Swamp, even my inexperienced eye could see that we would need a boat to cross it. A myriad of waterways, most of which seemed quite shallow, wound their way through small islets, some of which even had the odd tree or two. However, the distances between these tiny banks of land were irregular and it was impossible to say which ones were firm and which were made of mud. There was no help for it; we would have to return and get price gouged for boats. We camped out and the next morning trudged back into Vidor in the pouring rain. As soon as we returned, we went to the boat maker. We made little small talk; we didn’t like him and he could feel that; we were in no mood to bargain and we thought it unlikely that he would have been receptive anyway. It was obvious that he could sell more boats than he could make. We camped out again and the next morning, we collected our three boats and set out again; as previously, we didn’t engage in any conversation with any of the “business owners” in Vidor. It was fairly obvious what kind of people they were and that they thrived on and were making a lot of money from the misfortune of others, even potentially condemning them to death at the end of a Ragesian spear. If they were comfortable with that, well, that was between them and their consciences but we had no time for them. We reached the edge of the swamp at dusk and camped for the night. Then the next day, we set out. Each boat could carry three people so we decided that the warriors and the priest would go in one; Faden, Crystin and Torrent would go in another while Drudge, John and Tiljann would go in the last. We tied the boats together and carefully, with a mixture of poling and rowing, began to traverse the swamp. It was not a very hospitable place. It was the first swamp I had ever seen and I did not really care for the experience. It often smelled funny and here and there, we could see huge lizards with large mouths and very big teeth looking at us; Drudge said they were crocodiles and that they were extremely dangerous. They looked it. Once in the distance, we also saw a flock of black birds or I think that they were birds. They could also have been something else but if I was correct, I didn’t even want to think about it. We also saw several holed boats on our travels; I hoped that it was just inferior boat building as opposed to something attacking them. Thankfully for us, nothing attacked us and as we reached the evening, Drudge was able to find a sizeable island where we were able to set up camp. We landed, dragged the boats up the land and went through our usual routine before we went to bed. Then, Tiljann woke me up during the night and as I raised my head, I saw a cloud of fog with a light inside floating towards us from across the water. I had no idea what it was but it didn’t look friendly. [/QUOTE]
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The Gate Pass Irregulars: A War of the Burning Sky Campaign
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